


Bear!

by bwblack



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-25
Updated: 2011-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-15 01:42:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bwblack/pseuds/bwblack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before he had John he had a skull.  Before the skull he had a teddy bear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bear!

“Bear?” Sherlock wakes up to find his favorite teddy missing. He searches all around his bed. It’s not a very big bed, not like Mycroft’s. Teddy couldn’t get lost in his bed. Sherlock looks out the window and frowns. He’s not supposed to be out of bed when it’s dark out. Mummy gets really mad when he gets up to play when it’s dark. He and Bear get yelled at for that!

But sometimes Bear falls out of bed. He slides to the edge of his bed and leans his head over, “Bear?"

He doesn’t see Bear but it’s awfully dark under there! “Torch!” He has to get out bed to get the torch.

He slides out of bed as quietly as he can. People say as quiet as a mouse but that’s dumb. Mice squeak. If he squeaks mummy will hear him and he’ll get in trouble for being out of bed when it’s dark.

Trouble? Bear? Trouble? Bear!

He creeps, nearly on tip toe, to the door. He peeks out first to one side then the other. Then he tip toes down the hall. Then he quits tip toeing. Tip toeing hurts!

He walks, quietly as he can, not on his tip toes to the laundry room. The torch is up HIGH! He’s not supposed to use the ladder. Mummy’d hear if he tried to move the ladder. She did last time! He didn’t understand why she was so mad. She’d used the ladder to put the angel on top of the tree. Obviously he needed to use the ladder to get the angel off. He wanted to see if it would stick on other pointy things or if it just worked on trees! He’d made a list of pointy things. His bed post, Mycroft’s cello, the dog’s tail...

But Mummy’d heard him on the ladder and she made pea soup for dinner every day for a week, YICK.

He’d tried to feed it to bear. Bear didn’t like it either. “Bear!”  
He had to get the torch, he had to! He looked up at the shelf above the laundry machine. He could climb up the dryer!

Or, he could get a candle. The candle was on the table. He could reach the table! Matches… he wasn’t supposed to play with matches. He wasn’t supposed to do a lot of things. But it wasn’t playing. He was using them to light the candle to see under his bed to find Bear… just like Mycroft used the matches to light the candle to read to him during the big storm. The storm was big and loud and scary. Even Bear was scared.

“Bear!” If he opened the dryer he could stand on the edge and pull himself up! The dryer was on so when he pulled it open it stopped spinning and everything fell to the bottom. Mycroft’s sheets, the blue ones, not the white ones were in the dryer. Mummy’d washed the white ones yesterday. White sheets were boring. He had stripes.

He was just climbing on the edge of the dryer when he saw a wooly brown ear peeking out of the blue sheets. It was way, way, way in the back. He tried to pull the sheets out but they were heavy, too heavy!

“Bear.” His bottom lip quivers. He’s so close. He’s not giving up now. He climbs into the dryer. Mycroft’s sheets are warm. He grabs bear. “I had a ‘venture. You missed it.” He sniffles. He doesn’t like going on adventures without Bear… except adventures to save Bear. Those are okay.

“Mummy didn’t even wake up, Bear. You think we can get back to bed without her hearing?"

“Yeah, me either.”

“We’ve got sheets, warm sheets!”

“I think so, too!” Sherlcok holds bear tight to his chest as he curls himself into a ball and goes to sleep.

“Found him in the dryer! He could have been killed!” Sherlock hears his mother say as he steps tentatively out of his room clutching Bear to his chest.

“You think she’s still mad? I hope not. She was really, really, really, really mad. Four reallys. It is a lot of reallys. Madder than the ladder. I don’t understand either.“

“He carries that thing everywhere he goes. I had to wash it sometime.”

“Who is Mummy talking to? She doesn’t have a bear.” He tip toes towards the room with the white couches. “Tip toeing hurts! Last night my toes were going to fall off I tip toed so long.”

“Sounds adorable” Sherlock doesn’t know who was talking. It’s not Mummy. Maybe they have guests.

He continues his slow progress to the formal room, “if my toes fell off we could keep them in a jar. Like my tonsils. Do you think they’d put them in the same jar?”

“It really is quite cute. But the bear gets filthy. I thought I could sneak it through a wash cycle without him knowing it was gone.” His mother sighs. Sherlock doesn’t understand.

“Mummy’s plan was silly. I’d always know you were gone.” He explains to bear as he reaches the room his mother and the others are in. It’s garden club. They have tea in the room with the white couches. He can't have juice in there. UNFAIR!

“Awww.” One of the ladies clutches her hand to her chest. “He’s so sweet.”

“I’m not sweet,” he shakes his head at Bear. “I’m salty!”

The ladies laugh.

“I am salty. I tasted. Not just me, either. I licked Bobby and bit Michael. Their mummies won’t let them play with us anymore. It’s okay. We don’t need ‘em. I think all boys are salty… but I don’t know about girls. I’ve never licked one of those…” He explains to Bear.

“Sherlock!” His mother’s voice is sharp.

“Uh oh.” He whispers cuddling Bear closer.

His mother takes a deep breath and smiles, "Darling, you must be hungry after your big adventure. Why don’t you run along to the kitchen and ask Mary to get you some breakfast.”

He nods, breakfast is way better than a scolding. He turns towards the kitchen. “It was a big adventure, Bear. I went to the laundry to get a torch… Mycroft says “across the pond” they call them flashlights… but that’s dumb… they don’t flash. I don’t know where the pond is… but I think it’s scary… cause Mummy says that Mycroft keeps having wet dreams… and making a mess of his sheets!”

“Sherlock, hurry along.” His mother says in a strangled voice.

“But we’re not supposed to run with in the house… and we’re not supposed to run with scissors… and no cutting things to see if they grow back…. Not ourselves, or the roses, or the furniture, or the dog…” He says as they exit the room.


End file.
